


Color Vision

by Shearmouth



Series: Antagonizing Total Strangers [1]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: But mostly fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt TK Strand, M/M, Tarlos - Freeform, These boys are in love and also soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23209003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shearmouth/pseuds/Shearmouth
Summary: TK and Carlos's first anniversary doesn't exactly go as planned.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Series: Antagonizing Total Strangers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681423
Comments: 23
Kudos: 411





	Color Vision

When Carlos’s radio crackled ten minutes before the end of his shift, an invasive, insistent sound that he grew less than fond of toward the end of the day, he couldn’t resist rolling his eyes. He swept any annoyance from his tone as he picked up the receiver and replied with a curt “Reyes.”

_“Reyes, dispatch. We just got a call about a possible mugging. Alley on Easton Street, downtown. Can you respond?”_

Carlos tried not to groan. “Copy, dispatch, on my way. Reyes out.” Damn, he hated muggings. Usually the attackers ditched by the time the boys in blue arrived, leaving a hurt or shaken victim and little to go on. 

He just had to get through this next task and then he could go home, home to a shower and clean clothes and his boyfriend. Carlos grinned softly at the thought of TK and the night they had planned. Today marked their one-year anniversary, and Carlos had been sustained through the last two stressful weeks by the anticipation of their celebratory date, when he could take his boyfriend out to a nice dinner before hitting that club they’d found last month, and dancing and singing and sweating out their stress before, presumably, falling into bed. Or maybe not falling. Maybe shoving. With several different parts of their bodies.

If they even got as far as the bed. It would be far from the first time that he and TK had tripped into their apartment and had barely gotten the door closed before the night blurred into searing mouths and hungry hands and filthy words in the dark. Carlos felt the tips of his ears getting hot and refocused on the road. He normally didn’t let himself think of such enjoyable distractions on duty. He scanned the sides of the road for eyeshine– the mule deer were rut, more suicidal than normal, and as he entered downtown he started watching for people. It was a Friday, and Austin was alive and awake, shimmering with sound and movement.

Carlos paused at a crosswalk, letting a throng of shrieking college kids pass by. He was close to the given location, and as he drove slowly onward he began scanning for the alley.

The road turned, and the night got quieter. It was a dark patch in a bright city, one of those liminal spaces where the underbelly of urban life turned and flashed like a shark going under. Only a block away lay markets and department stores. Here, even the asphalt looked mean.

Carlos paused. There was a figure slumped in the alley to his right, features hidden in shadow. Carlos parked and approached, one careful hand near his weapon and the other pulling the Maglite from his belt.

“Hello?” he called. “Austin PD. You okay over there?”

Carlos flicked the light on and swept it into the alley, just as a tired, familiar voice replied, “Carlos?”

There was a loud clatter as the Maglite hit the ground. Carlos’s hands had gone numb. The light rolled, and the beam landed against the wall, enough to illuminate where TK sat slouched against the wall.

Carlos rushed forward, and for a moment words failed him. He knelt, grabbing onto TK’s forearm. He scanned him desperately, looking for blood, obvious injuries, but all he could find was a huge purple bruise on TK’s right cheek.

“What– what– TK, how– what the hell happened?”

TK looked rueful, but a little scared too. “Wasn’t my fault this time, ‘Los. I got jumped.”

“What hurts? Your face, what–“

“Hey, hey, Carlos, breathe.” TK cupped Carlos’s jaw, forcing him to look him in the eyes. Carlos froze, and realized his chest was tight. He exhaled, panic receding a little.

“TK,” Carlos finally said, slipping into his cop voice, “where are you hurt?”

TK, for all his youthful bravado, knew the importance of reporting injuries– bless first responder training. He grimaced and said, “My face really hurts. And I’m sitting here because I’m about ninety percent sure I sprained the shit out of my ankle.”

New alarm sparked through Carlos. He looked down to find TK’s left foot swollen and slightly misplaced. 

Carlos frowned in concern and caught TK’s wrist between his fingers, seeking his pulse.

“Carlos,” TK said gently, but insistently. “I’m okay.”

Carlos looked at him dubiously.

TK rolled his eyes. “I mean, I’m hurt, but I’m not dying or anything. Let’s just get out of here, please? I think I’ve been sitting in cat pee for the last ten minutes.”

“Yeah, okay,” Carlos said, calming down and softening at the gentle plea in TK’s voice. “Come on, let me get my arm around you.”

TK lifted his arms and wrapped one around Carlos’s shoulders as Carlos bracketed TK’s ribs. They rose slowly. TK groaned, leaning heavily against Carlos and lifting his injured foot a few inches off the ground.

They paused. Carlos could feel the tension vibrating through TK, hear his breaths huffing through his clenched teeth. “You good?” he murmured.

“Yeah,” TK gritted out. “Let’s go.” They began to shuffle forward, Carlos trying to support most of TK’s weight.

“So, you wanna tell me how you antagonized a total stranger this time?” Carlos let a little faux amusement into his voice, barely masking the panic still crawling up his throat.

“I told you, it wasn’t my fault! I was waiting–” TK grunted as they navigated an uneven feature in the brickwork. “–waiting for the Uber, and these guys come up behind me and pull me into the alley. They all had guns. I gave them my stuff, and the fucker pistol-whipped me.”

Carlos clenched his teeth, trapping rage behind them. He made a mental note to have a sketch done when TK gave his statement. He had some new people to keep an eye out for during his rounds.

“I fell,” TK continued, “and landed on that foot wrong. Hurt bad enough that I just sat down. Five minutes later you showed up. How did you know, by the way?”

“Someone called it in and I was close by.” They came to the end of the alley, and Carlos scanned the perimeter before they limped toward the cruiser. “What were you even doing here, Ty? I thought we were meeting at home at nine.”

TK didn’t answer. Carlos glanced up, concerned, and was surprised to see TK looking even more dejected than he had a moment ago.

“I would’ve been there, but I got out of the firehouse late. I…I had something made for you. For us. I needed to pick it up from the store before they closed. It was an anniversary present. They took it too.”

“Oh, TK…” Carlos’s heart clenched at the sadness in TK’s voice, even as he felt a rush of affection at the gesture. “I’m so sorry, _mi amor.”_

“Yeah, me too.” They reached the cruiser, and TK leaned heavily against the chassis as Carlos adjusted the passenger seat. “Not exactly how I thought our anniversary date was gonna start.”

“Me neither,” Carlos admitted, “but I don’t really care. We’re both safe, that’s the most important thing.”

“Yeah.” Carlos didn’t miss the disappointment and tight pain in TK’s voice, and he felt another surge of anger– at the muggers, the universe at large, whoever decided to fuck with them on this, a really special day for both of them.

Carlos straightened and stepped close to TK, running a gentle hand down his bicep. “Hey,” he murmured, soft, soothing. TK looked stricken and hurting and lost, so Carlos leaned in and grasped the back of TK’s head, working his fingers through fine black hair, and pulled him forward. With a half-whimper, half sigh, TK slumped into Carlos’s chest, and Carlos could feel the residual fear still working its way through TK, clawing at his bones, sending tremors through his body. Carlos tucked TK’s head over his shoulder and ran his hand up and down his back. “It’s okay, _amado._ I got you. You’re safe.”

“It hurts, ‘Los.”

“I know. I know, Ty. Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”

000

TK hated hospitals on a good day. On a bad day, as this day had suddenly become, being in one made him want to forget all his fire training and pick up an arson hobby. It felt like he and Carlos spent an eon in the ER, where the doctors concluded that no, TK did not have a concussion, but his cheekbone was cracked and he’d torn a ligament in his ankle. He’d be out for a week at least. They wrapped his ankle, wrote him a scrip for hardcore Advil, and sent them home.

It was close to midnight when they finally pulled up outside the apartment. TK was in too much pain to be sleepy, but anxiety had stripped him out. He groaned at the thought of moving.

“Hold still,” Carlos said as he put the car into park. TK was too tired to protest. Carlos crossed to the passenger side, opened the door, and leaned in. “C’mere.”

TK wrapped his arms around Carlos’s neck and gave him his weight. He lifted TK out of his seat and leaned him against the car. Blood rushed into TK’s ankle, making it throb. He squeezed his eyes shut as the pain crested, and he swayed.

Carlos steadied him with a warm hand on his shoulder. “You’re not walking upstairs like this. Come on,” Carlos said. TK opened his eyes to find Carlos half- kneeling, offering his back.

“You’re giving me a piggyback ride?” TK asked, bemused.

“Yes.”

Normally, TK would rib him, or make a lewd joke about Carlos being halfway there to face down, ass up, but he was too damn tired and in too much pain. He draped himself awkwardly across Carlos’s broad shoulders and linked his hands over his chest. Carlos wove his hands under TK’s thighs, then straightened up with a soft grunt.

“You think I need to lay off the boba, babe?” TK joked halfheartedly.

“What, and risk losing any of that ass?” Carlos glanced over his shoulder, grinning. “Perish the thought.”

TK smirked, then gasped when pain stabbed through his cheek and into his eye and temple. Carlos murmured sympathetically. They entered the apartment and started ascending the stairs. TK nuzzled Carlos’s neck, buried his face in his trapezius, and shut his eyes, grounding himself in the sound of footfalls, his heartbeat in his ears, the tighten-and-release of the powerful muscles composing Carlos’s back. He felt like a koala– albeit an exhausted, wounded one.

Carlos stopped before their apartment door. A hand left TK’s thigh for a moment, and then keys were being pressed into his palm. Carlos crouched, carefully angling TK’s foot away from the wall, and TK coaxed in the key. Their lock was usually stubborn, but tonight it had mercy on them, and the door swung open with the gentle creak that had ingrained itself in TK’s mind as the sound of homecoming.

Carlos flicked on the lights. TK winced as his pupils contracted painfully, and he ducked his head into Carlos’s neck again with a quiet groan.

“Okay, _cariño.”_ TK felt Carlos crouch again, and then the soft pressure of the couch was at his back. “Let go, I got you.”

TK unwrapped his arms and let himself slump backward. A warm hand braceleted his calf and guided his leg onto the arm of the couch. Some of the throbbing below his knee receded.

“Carlos,” TK murmured as he felt Carlos move away, reaching clumsily out after him.

“I’ll be right back, Ty.” Carlos cupped TK’s jaw, and TK pushed his face into the warm pressure. “Just sit tight.”

TK let out a puff of air. He breathed slowly, imagining himself sinking into the couch, the pain seeping out of his body, but the insistent burning ache in his face and ankle would not let him relax. Not for the first time, TK wished he could have gotten addicted to anything but opioids. With the amount of times he got hurt on the job –or off it, apparently– not being able to use the good stuff was a massive pain in more ways than one. The painkillers they gave him at the ER had taken the edge off, but TK knew he was in for a restless night.

He tried to meditate like he learned in therapy, be mindful of his body but emotionally removed from it. It wouldn’t take.

He could smell something fragrant– tea. The couch dipped. TK opened his eyes to find Carlos, looking down at him tenderly and holding a steaming mug. “It’s chamomile,” he said. TK’s favorite.

Despite the pain, he half-smiled at Carlos in gratitude. “Thanks.” He sat up, wincing, and took the mug. The warm ceramic between his hands grounded him a little.

“We need to ice that ankle,” Carlos said, grimacing sympathetically. “You up for it?”

The last thing TK wanted was for someone to even look at his foot, but he knew if he didn’t ice it tonight, it would hurt even more tomorrow and take longer to heal. “Yeah. Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed.” Carlos picked up an ice pack from the coffee table, wrapped it in a dishcloth, and handed it to TK. “Get that on your eye too.”

TK pressed the pack to his face with a wince. “Which god did I piss off, Carlos?” he asked miserably, not even caring how whiny he sounded. “Did your grandma ever tell you about a god of stupid bad luck bullshit?”

“In Mayan tradition? Not that I can think of.” Carlos ran a hand soothingly down TK’s shin before starting to undo the wrapping. “Though I’m sure if you asked she would tell you.”

“Will she tell me what I did to upset them and how I can get back on their good side?” TK sucked his lower lip into his teeth, biting down on a hiss as his ankle protested. He leaned his head back, glaring at the ceiling with his one eye not covered by the ice pack.

“Maybe if you ask nicely.” Carlos undid the last of the wrapping. “I’ll see if she can put in a good word too.”

“I’d appreciate tha– fuck!” TK snarled as Carlos rested the ice pack over his torn ligament. He fisted the top of the couch cushion and clenched his teeth as his ankle flooded with fire.

“Shhh, shh, it’s okay Ty, we’re almost done.” Carlos ran his hand over TK’s shin again, and TK tried to center himself on the pull of Carlos’s fingers gliding over his skin. “I’m sorry. Sorry, babe,” Carlos whispered.

“It’s– okay,” TK gritted out. “I’m okay, ‘Los, just fucking hurts.”

“I know. I know. Almost done.” Carlos kept murmuring encouragement to him as he lightly wrapped the bandage over the ice pack to hold it in place. “There. All done.”

A cold sweat had broken out over TK’s forehead. He breathed, slow and deep. His leg was trembling.

There was a hand at his neck, his chest, leaning him forward. Carlos settled behind him, and pulled TK back into his chest, tucked his legs around TK’s hips. He linked his foot under TK’s elevated leg, taking some of the pressure off his knee. “This okay?” Carlos murmured.

“Better than okay.” TK sighed and let himself lean into Carlos’s chest, relaxing fully for the first time. The cold was seeping into his ankle and driving out some of the pain. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Carlos’s lips were by TK’s nape, his breath warm and soothing on his neck. He took the ice pack from TK and pressed it tenderly to his cheek. His other hand moved over TK’s chest, ghosting over his scarred shoulder, sweeping away the lingering anxiety. God, TK loved Carlos’s hands. Wide and strong, calloused from work and weapons, but careful too. Delicate. From the day they met TK knew he would love those hands. Love their precision and skill, and the way they reached inside and coax the best parts out of him.

Carlos pressed a kiss behind TK’s ear. “You scared me.”

TK snuggled in deeper. “I know. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry our anniversary got all fucked up.”

“Hey, no no, none of that.” Carlos shifted so he could look TK in the eyes. “You know that’s not your fault.”

“I know, I’m just…I just was really looking forward to a special night. And to giving you your gift.” TK wove his fingers into Carlos’s free hand, trying to quell his disappointment.

“We can still do it.” Carlos brushed his thumb over the back of TK’s hand, moving up and down the bumps of his knuckles. “When you’re feeling better and work calms down. It’ll be one year and like, eleven days.”

Goosebumps rose on TK’s skin as Carlos kissed under his jaw. He pressed his lips all the way up, across TK’s unbroken cheekbone, down to the corner of his mouth. “Tyler Kennedy, _mi amor,”_ he murmured, breath hot against TK’s lips, “every night I come home to you is special. Every morning I wake up next to you is special. Every day when I look up and you’re there, every moment you’re in my life, it feels like a miracle to me.”

TK’s eyes stung. “Carlos…”

“Milestones are fun, celebrating is fun. But we don’t need calendar dates to remind us that we love each other. It’s impossible for me to forget. It’s always there. It’s a light that never goes out.” Carlos rested his forehead against TK’s, gazing into his eyes, so honest and open and _Carlos,_ and TK felt a surge of love so wild and all-encompassing that he wondered how he could have ever been suicidal, ever wanted to check out, because why would he want to leave this beautiful world, this world with Carlos in it?

Carlos’s brow crinkled at TK’s silence. “TK–?”

His question cut off abruptly when TK crushed his lips into Carlos’s. Carlos gasped into TK’s mouth in surprise, then whimpered and parted his lips, sighing into TK, slipping his tongue inside. It was a heated kiss, as they always were, but more emotional than hungry, deeper than desire. TK pressed all his intent into the motion, kissed into Carlos his mutual feelings, his gratitude, the love that he failed to find words for. He kissed him with all the trust and affection that burned brightly through him, all the endless adoration that somehow grew every day. He kissed him like the world was coming to an end.

When they broke apart, Carlos’s pupils were blown wide. TK leaned their foreheads together, gazed into those eyes, deep brown like rich soil.

“Carlos Reyes,” TK murmured, “I am so hopelessly fucking in love with you.”

000

Summer was in full bloom. Austin was hot, the air desert dry, but there was the scent of flowers floating on the breeze. Cottonwood seeds drifted across a spotless azure sky. The light was starting to get low as the sun slid close to the horizon, dusting everything in purple and gold. Carlos breathed deep, savoring the quiet and the grass under his hands, drinking in the expanse of the city below him.

This was their favorite place to go when they could. There wasn’t much topography in this part of Texas, but a few rounded mountains stood proudly outside the city, and high up one of them on an afternoon hike was where he and TK had found the meadow. It was off the paths, half a mile into the woods and sheltered by trees and shrubs but for an open area at the edge of a cliff that looked down onto the city. The first time they stumbled upon it, they were so taken by the lush grass and silence that they lay down and looked at the sky and down at the city for hours, talking and touching and eventually making love. Since then they came back whenever they could, often on their days off. They hadn’t even told the 126 about it. It was their sacred place.

Carlos leaned back and breathed deep, resting his weight on his hands and stretching his bare feet out before him. TK’s shift had ended half an hour ago. Until his arrival, Carlos was quite content to relax in the company of the trees. He pressed his arm against his lightweight hiking jacket, checking that he could still feel the flat planes and sharp corners of what he had hidden in the pocket.

It was still there, just as he knew it would be.

The undergrowth rustled behind him. Carlos turned to find TK ducking under a Russian olive at the edge of the clearing. Even now, one year and twenty-one days since they had gotten together, the sight of him made Carlos’s heart stutter.

TK straightened and met his eyes. He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Heya,” he called.

“Hey.” Carlos didn’t rise, happy to watch TK cross the meadow toward him and admire how his faded jeans and black AFD t-shirt hugged the beautiful lines of his body. He was also pleased to see that even after a 12-hour shift, TK wasn’t limping.

TK noticed Carlos giving him a few once-overs and smirked. “See something you like?”

“Always,” Carlos purred. He felt a little bolt of want when TK bit his lip at his tone of his voice, and the way Carlos was blatantly undressing him with his eyes.

TK settled next to him with a satisfied sigh. He toed off his boots and socks and tangled his lower legs with Carlos’s. “How was your shift?”

“Not too bad,” Carlos replied. “Mellow. You?”

“We rescued a cat out of a tree and a kid out of his laundry chute. That was an interesting process. We used all of our soap solution and half a bottle of Dawn from under their kitchen sink.”

Carlos blinked. “How does a kid get stuck in a laundry chute?”

TK looked at him dryly. “I’ve long since learned to stop asking why. Humans are weird, man.”

“True that,” Carlos said, smiling at nothing in particular. He looked out over the skyline again. The windows of the skyscrapers were blazing gold, glinting like new coins.

TK leaned against him and dropped his head onto Carlos’s shoulder. His hair tickled the sensitive space behind Carlos’s ear, and he shivered a little. He rested his temple on TK’s head, sighing in contentment.

For a little while they were quiet like that. They could talk for hours on end about the tiniest things, but they could be wordless together too. It was a form of intimacy Carlos shared with only a few others, and never in the way he could with TK. They were both driven by the same onus, the same desire to help people, and it could leave you restless and edgy after a while. With TK, the world turned softly.

“Hey,” Carlos said after a while, “I’ve got something to tell you.”

TK stiffed a little at his serious tone. “Yeah?”

“We arrested the men who mugged you.”

TK twisted, stared at Carlos. “Really?”

“Yeah. We got a tip, and caught them right as they were about to run. Brought them in this afternoon. We confiscated their car and found a ton of missing items.”

Hope flashed in TK’s eyes. Carlos grinned. “Including these.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet, a watch, and a small white box labeled _Tilghman’s Fine Jewelry._

“They said during interrogation they were about to make a big sale over the border. They hadn’t even destroyed the IDs, the dumbasses. My captain said I could take these since I confirmed they were yours.”

TK’s eyes had widened, but he suddenly looked apprehensive. “Did you open it?” he asked. “The box?”

Carlos shook his head. “I knew it was important to you, so I waited–“

Carlos’s words were cut off when TK threw his arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely. When he pulled back, his eyes were shining with joy.

“How did I get so lucky with you?” TK murmured.

“I ask myself the same thing every day.” Carlos kissed the corner of TK’s mouth. “And yes, I did wait, but I am damn curious as to what’s in there.”

TK chuckled. “Close your eyes, then.” He sounded excited, relieved, but Carlos didn’t miss the endearing note of nervousness in his words.

Carlos grinned and shut his eyes. He heard TK open the box, a rustle of tissue paper. An exhale. Then something cool and smooth was placed in the palm of his outstretched hand.

He opened his eyes, and something deep inside him went still.

It was a bracelet– no, a cuff, silver and slender and stunning. There was an engraving on the bright surface. Carlos picked it up, marveling at how light it was. He peered in and realized it was an etching of a city skyline, with low mountains beyond. The sky above the scene was banded by wide, fluid marks, which flashed an iridescent blue-green when they caught the late-day light.

It was Austin, the night after the solar storm. The night the sky broke open with light and color in a way that’s never supposed to happen this far south. Carlos stared, running the tips of his fingers reverently over the metal.

“Look on the inside,” TK said shyly. Carlos turned the cuff over and read the script there, written in a familiar left-handed scrawl:

_Thank you for bringing the color back to my world._

“It’s– it’s about that night, in the precinct–“

“I remember,” Carlos murmured. Black eyes and broken hearts. “Jesus, TK, it’s beautiful. I love it.”

He looked up to find TK fidgeting with an identical bracelet, turning it over and over in his hands.

“It’s just– I don’t feel that way anymore.” TK met his eyes, vulnerable, but happy too. “Ever since that night, after the solar flare, after I asked you to be my boyfriend– the world lit up in a way I never thought it could for me. You look after me, help me celebrate the good times and endure the bad. You saw me at my worst and you didn’t walk away. You took me with all my fucked-up history, all my issues, practically without blinking. And I’m happier now than I have ever been. Happier than I ever thought I deserved. I can never thank you for that, but I can try.”

TK took the bracelet from Carlos’s hand and wrapped it around his left wrist. He held Carlos’s hand tight and looked him in the eyes. Looked him in the soul.

“Thank you, Carlos,” he said. “Thank you for having my back. I love you so much more than I can ever say.”

Carlos didn’t reply right away. Instead he gently took the other bracelet from TK’s hand. He slipped it onto TK’s wrist, and let his hand linger there, on TK’s pulse point. With his other hand, he cupped TK’s jaw, leaned their foreheads together.

“Tyler Kennedy, _mi amor,_ ” Carlos said, letting all his adoration pour into the words, “I am so hopelessly fucking in love with you.”

TK grinned, the light of the sunset sparking up the green in his eyes. He pulled Carlos to his feet, into a long kiss, and together they danced barefoot through sweet grass under the light of the gathering stars. 


End file.
